


Anti-Christ Superstar

by localmanghoe



Category: American Horror Story: Apocalypse
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Satanism, bitching at eachother tbh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:14:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27093391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/localmanghoe/pseuds/localmanghoe
Summary: Band Au innit
Relationships: Michael Langdon & Reader, Michael Langdon & You, Michael Langdon/Reader, Michael Langdon/You
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	Anti-Christ Superstar

**Author's Note:**

> new week new work lol have fun and leave a commnet

Friday night in Camden was bad. Friday night in Camden behind the bar was worse. Tonight, was hell, you were sure the devil invented this job to torment people.  
Your bar was a club and music venue for all things alternative. And tonight, you were graced with the presence of the new-ish kids on the scene.   
Satanic Panic had taken the alternative world by storm. They were on their second world tour, for their album ‘Fire and Reign’. They were playing your venue tonight and the place was jam packed. You didn’t even know you had the capacity for all these people, but here you were, taking order after order. You weren’t surprised at the turnout. The atmosphere of the room truly was electric, and you had felt it once before.  
You remembered seeing them for their Hawthorne tour at Leeds festival a few years ago, when they were fresh faced and very new to the scene. The way they managed to control the crowd of the smaller stage was quite magical, better than some of the bands that played the main stage. You weren’t surprised at their success; the music was good and the whole band was eye candy for people of all ages.   
However, you wished they would go be successful somewhere else, not in the place you worked, a venue what you thought was far too small for them now.  
You were just about to take a new order, before the manager pulled you back.   
“Y/N come with me,” he said, pulling you to the backstage area, you could barely hear him over the loud music and people.   
“Everything okay?”, you asked.   
“well…” he hesitated, “How goods your bass skills?” he finished.  
You gave him a confused look, “what the fuck are you on about?”  
He let out a sight. “Look, the bassist for the band just dropped out last minute, they clocked your bass in the locker room and asked if you could play decent… I said yes and they need you ready for stage in like… 15 minutes,” he said, looking at his watch.  
“Josh! My bass is pink and sparkly it’s not gonna fit the aesthetic and were flooded with thirsty people out there,” you whisper-shouted.  
“Okay great! You’ll play then,” he said, looking more giddy than necessary.  
Before you could shout at him, a velvety voice interrupted you.  
“So, is this our replacement for tonight?”  
You turned to look at the source, Michael Langdon, lead guitar and vocals. The face of the band.  
His perfect eyebrow was raised as his baby blues looked you up and down, sizing you up to see if you were fit for the task.  
Your manager spoke, “Yeah, this is Y/N just give her the instructions and she’ll do fine, I’m off to cover her shift now, have fun,” he waved at you before almost skipping to take over your post.   
You were left alone with Michael, at a loss for words.  
“C’mon, lets go, we have a concert to play,” he grabbed your wrist and dragged you along with him.  
You couldn’t believe this, you though you might be hallucinating, the heat of the venue getting to you. You pulled your phone out of your pocket to snap a picture, to prove to yourself and your friends that this night really did happen. Michael was too busy barking orders to the side to notice the picture had been taken.  
You finally got to where the other two bandmembers were standing. They looked up from their conversation and smiled at you.  
“The pink bass yours?” asked the blonde on, this was Xavier, the drummer of the band, his little cross earring glimmered at every concert. Upon a closer look you realised the cross was inverted. How very on brand.  
You nodded in reply, still trying to come to terms with the situation.   
“Oh cool, we’ve never played with a girl before, you better be good,” the brunet laughed. This was Duncan, the other guitarist. He had the good boy gone bad vibe to him, a rebel from a prim and proper family.   
You looked and him and pointed to your nose, “nose is a bit crusty there,” you said.   
Duncan laughed and wiped the white powder, sniffling a little, “thanks”.  
“Are you all quite finished?” interrupted Michael, looking annoyed at the interactions. The rest of the band just rolled their eyes.   
“10 MINUTES!” someone shouted.  
“Am I getting paid for this by the way?” you asked, not wanting your talents and time to go unrewarded, you were here to work after all.   
“Of course,” Michael snapped, “We have 10 Minutes before we get on there and we’ve never been late, here’s the set list, I’m sure you’ve heard our shit before if your working in a place like this,” Michael shoved a piece of paper in your hands.  
“shouldn’t be too hard to keep up, now, this is Rin,” he pointed to a blonde woman, “She’s the techie that’s gonna get you set up. Other than that, just follow my lead and stand on the right side of the stage,” he finished. That was a lot of information to process at once.   
“I’m Y/N by the way,” you finally introduced yourself to everyone, while holding your hand out to Rin.   
The support act was coming off stage as Rin gave you a quick rundown and set you up. You had worked here for months and yet there was still so little you knew about the stage. She told you exactly where to stand and where not to stand due to pyrotechnics. All you could do was nod, the reality of what you had been roped into hadn’t hit you yet.   
You were pulled away by Michaels death grip, it was time to go on.  
You took a deep breath, the nerves beginning to hit you. Michael was adjusting his leather trousers. Duncan was making sure his docs were tied tightly, not having a repeat of the last tour where he tripped over the laces and fell face first into the crowd.  
Xavier stood next to you, he noticed the look on your face and put a reassuring hand on your shoulder, giving it a squeeze.   
“Hey, look, its gonna be fine. You know deep down inside how talented you are, otherwise, you would have run for the hills. This is a really weird situation so just give it all you got okay,” he gave you a little pep talk.  
“Thanks, I really needed that,” you smiled, patting the hand that was on your shoulder.  
“Can the pair of you please shut the fuck up, were going on now,” Michael snipped.  
“Who pissed in your cornflakes this morning,” you snapped back, not appreciating the attitude boy wonder was giving you.   
He opened his mouth to speak, but the lights lit up the stage and the crowd started to go insane, ready for the band to come out.   
You tried to control the nausea you were feeling, walking to your designated section of the stage. The crowd was massive but thankfully, all eyes were on Michael. You pulled the strap of your bass on, adjusting it so it would be comfortable for a long night of playing. You didn’t even know if you had the stamina for it.   
Michael had stopped talking to the crowd and Xavier started on the drumbeat. You looked back at your friends at the bar, your manger giving you a thumbs up.  
You began to strum in time with Xavier, setting the beat for the song. You thanked your lucky stars that you had just removed your acrylics a few hours ago.   
Michael’s and Duncan’s guitars came in, completing the intro to the song.  
Michael’s voice finally joined in. It was as if the room had immediately been put in a trance. You had been on the other side of the feeling before, being on stage with it was almost the same. Instead, it felt like your fingers were playing on their own, separate from the rest of you. You closed your eyes and embraced the feeling, letting the music and Michael’s voice control you.  
You opened your eyes and were met by Michael’s intense gaze, you just smiled at him, before looking back to the crowd and winking at your friend in the crowd. You still felt Michael’s eyes on you.   
The lights transitioned, indicating the song change. Michael and Duncan were back to back, in their competitive duet piece in the song. The crowd was going crazy at the performance. You looked back at Xavier and grinned at each other; you were surprised at how much you were enjoying yourself.   
Time seemed to fly, before you knew it you had played the final song of the set. You were finally out of your daze and got a good look of the room around you. Everything seemed so much brighter on stage. Duncan came over and gave you a high-five.  
“Thank you, London,” Michael began, “It’s been great performing for you all tonight. I want to say a huge thank you to Y/N over here for filling last minute, we wouldn’t have been able to perform without her,” he said, gesturing to you.   
A sudden shyness hit you, hearing the crowd cheer for you. You smiled and waved, giving them a little bow.  
The band finished with their messages, before walking off stage to a cheering crowd.   
“Oh my god,” you whispered to yourself.  
“There’s no god here,” Michael whispered in your ear.  
“Personal space Langdon,” you replied, glaring at him.  
A short woman with dark hair walked towards you.  
“This is Ms. Meade, our manager,” introduced Duncan.   
You held you had for her to shake, “Y/N”.  
She shook your hand, “the people on social media are loving you, you know that? We haven’t had this much of a positive response to a bassist since the one a few years ago. What was his name again? …. Eh, I can’t remember,” she shrugged.   
“This is so surreal,” you said to yourself, lightly patting you hot cheeks. “I need a spliff after this.”  
“Ask and ye shall receive,” Xav said, holding a rolled one out at you.  
You smiled and took it, “you are My favourite person on planet earth right now Xav,” you said, bringing out your lighter. You walked out to the smoking area, chatting away with Xavier about the strange day you were having.   
You heard Duncan snicker behind you, not knowing he was laughing at the death glare Michael was giving Xavier.   
Xavier and you scrolled through the twitter and Instagram tags of the concert. Meade was right, you seemed to be getting a lot of attention on there. You DM’s were blowing up too, from friends, family and total strangers on the internet. Within a span of a few hours, crazy fans had found your social media and followed you everywhere. If you hadn’t had been stoned, maybe you would have panicked a little at the sudden attention. But that was a problem for sober you.   
You went back inside to, Meade, your manager and the boys having a heated conversation.  
“Ah, Y/N so nice of you to join us,” said your manager.  
Meade just rolled her eyes, interrupting him before he could go any further.   
“Look, I’m gonna cut right to it kid. The people love you and we don’t have a bassist for the rest of the tour. You’ll be fully paid and accommodated for. If you don’t like it, Josh over here says your free to come back here any time. We’ll even throw in your own bus for you. How’s that sound?”  
You brain barely processed what she said. They wanted you permanently, your mouth was gaping like fish.  
“C- can I read the contract at least?” you asked.   
She shrugged and pulled out a wad of paper, it had to be thicker than the bible, your eyes widened.  
“Is there a TL;DR version of that?”  
“Nope,” they all said in unison.  
“We need to know by tonight, we leave for Europe on Monday, so you have Saturday and Sunday to pack and tie up any loose ends if you choose to do so,” she said.   
You looked around the room at the band members. Duncan and Xavier looked happy to have you, grinning at you. Michael however had a sour look on his as face, as if your very existence was offensive to him.   
You smiled to yourself, the thought of you just being near him and irritating him for a few months was enough to convince you. Getting on his nerves was already becoming a favourite pastime of yours.  
“Pen?” you held out you hand. Meade handing you heavy and expensive looking black pen. You signed your name onto the contract in blood red ink, not looking at the contents of the contract.   
“Welcome aboard Y/N, you’re officially a member of Satanic Panic.”


End file.
